


only fools

by sofarsoperfect



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Greek Mythological Re-telling, Huang Renjun as Hades, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Suh Youngho | Johnny as Persephone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26167990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofarsoperfect/pseuds/sofarsoperfect
Summary: Youngho, he thinks is his name, Joohyun’s son. Oh goodness, the things Joohyun might do knowing Renjun so much as seen him. He is darling though, an omnipresent flush through his cheeks, golden skin, white robes fluttering around him as the Muses dance. He finishes a flower crown and Ten gets down to his knees, Youngho resting it so gently on the top of his head.He’s threaded narcissus into that one.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	only fools

**Author's Note:**

> welcome back! it's been a minute since i gave renjun and johnny a proper story and while this is simply a retelling of a well known story i thought it would be especially apt for these two. i had a lot of fun retelling this story into something sweet and wholesome and genuinely loving. i hope you enjoy!
> 
> *for reference:
> 
> Renjun is Hades // Youngho is Persephone // Joohyun is Demeter // Jaemin is Zeus // Jeno is Poseidon // no other gods are truly worth explaining but these are the ones that might help you better understand the storyline
> 
> **beta'd

“But- but mother!” Youngho argues to no avail. Joohyun continues to push him into the home, away from the prying eyes of others. Once he breaches the doorway she cages him into the house with her body, blocking him from leaving. Youngho huffs, turning to his mother in irritation. “I just don’t understand,” he goes on. “Why must I be in here?” 

“It’s for your safety,” she says, leaning back and looking over her shoulder. “We don’t know when he’ll be arriving and I’d hate for something to happen to my darling,” she says. She views him again, Youngho’s cheeks flush rosey with annoyance. Joohyun sighs, reaching out to take his chin between her fingers, tilting her son’s face down. “You don’t understand yet, darling. You’re still so young and just a tad naive. One day you’ll understand why it is I protect you so harshly. Until then, do as I say. I promise you I do it for a good reason.” 

“Yes, mother,” Youngho sighs. Joohyun lets go of his chin, booping him gently on the nose before pulling away.

“I must go but stay in the house,” she warns. Youngho nods despite his irritation and Joohyun leaves him, closing the door to the home. Youngho leans against the wall with a sigh, looking out the window. It’s a lovely summer’s day, he would much rather be out in the sun than spend all day cooped up because of his overprotective mother. Donghyuck truly outdid himself today, it’s stunningly warm and Youngho goes over to the window, leaning his arms on the sill, enjoying the way the sun shines in through the window. 

Quite suddenly, the sun goes out, clouds and thunder filling the sky. Youngho leans forward a bit more to look up, but as he does, he catches something out of his periphery. Turning his head, he shrinks back with a short gasp, ducking back in the window. 

Down the main walkway comes a golden chariot, pulled by black horses. The horses walk at an easy pace down the walkway and he watches as the chariot passes by, a large yet beautiful thing that glimmers in the non light from the cloud cover. Inside of it stands a man with a stoic face, silver hair combed away from his face. He is not terribly imposing, must be shorter than Youngho himself but his broad shoulders and straight back make him seem all the more intimidating, especially the way his delicate features are pinched into a mournful expression. His robes are black as night, contrasting sharply to the golden trim along the fabric and his own golden complexion. 

The chariot passes by without much fanfare but Youngho watches the whole time, intrigued. Could this possibly be the man that his mother so fears? He seems quite… decent. A bit sad but not terrifying, not bad. Youngho rests his arms on the sill and places his chin upon them, watching him go. 

Renjun steps down off of his chariot, sweeping black robes swishing around him as he turns and instead walks up the steps to the temple. The marble pillars of the temple stand tall around him, mock him in comparison to the ashy world that he comes from, big and gleaming and so purely white. He sighs as he walks between them and into the big doors that welcome him into the temple of the Olympians. Oh so grand do his siblings treat this place but Renjun thinks nothing of it as he walks into the temple. 

“Brother,” Jeno greets him with a sweet eye smile. Not a day goes by that the God of the Seas wouldn’t be smiling, Renjun feels. Even as Renjun’s presence makes itself known to the rest of the gods, Jeno has nothing but smiles to give him. Renjun offers a shy one in reply, nodding in greeting before turning and finding exactly who he figured he might, way ahead at the top of the room, standing tall in his clean white and gold trimmed robes, platinum blond hair artfully tousled. He comes closer, his wife not far behind, though quite unlike his brother she looks to him with thinly veiled suspicion. 

“Jaemin. Yerim,” Renjun greets them gently and a brilliant smile takes over his kingly brother’s face. Some days Renjun does not understand how their mother could’ve ever gifted Jaemin with the sky, watching over everything below but most of the time even he can see Jaemin’s charms. He always was a favorite. Renjun is only a little resentful. 

“Good to see you again,” Jaemin says. “It’s been a long time.” 

“Has it? Only a few centuries,” Renjun comments and Jaemin laughs, giddy. 

“Only,” Jaemin continues. “How are things?” 

“Fire. Brimstone. You know how it can be,” Renjun lays on in reply but Jaemin looks at him in amusement, clearly doesn’t believe a word he says. “Tell me, why exactly am I here? I had no business putting Styx and Thanatos in charge of the Underworld, that is my territory, isn’t it? I really oughtn’t be here. Some people don’t have the luxury of laying around all day, brother.” 

“Of course, a busy man you are,” Jaemin says. “Come, let’s discuss,” he tells him, reaching out a hand. Renjun hesitantly takes it, can feel the way Jaemin’s skin crackles with static electricity. He imagines Jaemin being able to feel the ash that coats every inch of him as his brother leads him back, further into the temple. He knows the others are watching with curious eyes and he turns his head, catches the eyes of Joohyun. Somewhere an entire field of crops withered from her gaze directed upon him alone. 

“I do not have time for your games, brother,” Renjun says not a moment after the curtains have closed. Yerim left their side in the main room, much to her displeasure, leaving the two brothers on their own. Jaemin turns to him, crosses the room and throws himself down on a lounge. Renjun rolls his eyes as he sits, delicately, on one of his own. “What do you want from me?” 

“You’re not married,” Jaemin states matter-of-factly and Renjun lifts a brow. “All these centuries and not a single bride?” 

“All these centuries and so many lovers?” Renjun shoots back and Jaemin tips his head back onto the lounge with a breathy laugh. “How interesting.” 

“This is not about me,” Jaemin says, lifting his head again. “It is unseemly for a king to not have a queen, or perhaps a consort?” 

“Is that how people see me?” Renjun asks, crossing his ankles and folding his hands in his lap. “How curious. I am just a god, I have no kingly rule. I just protect those who are departed, I mean nothing else.” 

“You have more domain than any of us. A busy man, aren’t you?” Jaemin points out. “You must wish for a spouse.” 

“I wish for nothing,” Renjun replies, easy as can be. “I desire nothing more than to take care of what belongs to me and to be left alone,” he says the latter part of the statement pointedly and Jaemin waves a hand. 

“I see, I see,” he relents. “But you still contain mortal whims. It is the curse of these forms,” Jaemin says and Renjun sighs at him. “I know you do.” 

“No one contains mortal whims quite like you, brother,” Renjun says, getting to his feet. “Am I meant to stay here or may I return home.” 

“Stay a few days,” Jaemin says and Renjun scoffs. “The mountain is just as much yours as it is ours. Stay here, in the temple, just a short time. Surely Styx and Thanatos can handle it for a few days,” Jaemin says, sitting up. “You work too hard.” 

“Because you have any idea what that’s like,” Renjun quips. He reaches out to mess with his brother but Jaemin catches him by the hand, tugging him in. Renjun stumbles across the floor shortly before ending up at the side of Jaemin’s lounge. Jaemin looks up at him, serene and genuine. “Do not make that face at me, I am not a mortal that bends to your whims so easily,” Renjun says to him, Jaemin holding tightly to his fingers.

“I know that. I just miss you sometimes, is all,” Jaemin replies. “Don’t you miss me?” 

“Not at all,” Renjun says, snatching his hand back. Jaemin laughs, happy and bright and a smile makes its way across Renjun’s face without his permission. For all the resentment Renjun has carried towards his brothers over the centuries they are still his brothers. 

Yerim continues to look sour faced as they emerge but Renjun pays her no mind as he leaves. Jaemin trails after him, slow, and reaches out for Yerim, cooing gently at her. Renjun leaves the temple, all the way down to his chariot and climbs back inside. He trots the horses right around the side of the temple before untying them, walking the two of them back to the stables. 

Back, within the forests, he hears singing. Were it not for the unending joy that began to swell in his chest, he would’ve passed it off on nymphs. But he knows those voices and makes quick work of settling the horses down before leaving their side. The forest is thick and green, quite unlike any plant life in the Underworld and it takes him a moment to get acclimated to the feel of it underneath and around him. 

Not far in, he comes to the edge of a clearing. He hides behind a thicket of bushes as he observes the people in the clearing. They dance and sing carelessly and he recognizes most of them as the Muses. Their instruments lay at the feet of the one he doesn’t know personally but has heard word of before. He is the most beautiful, sits on the ground where he weaves crowns of flowers and grass, vines tangling together as he works them with gentle fingers. Jungwoo and Sicheng both already sport them, and Taeyong lies on the floor, head pillowed on his thigh as they sing in harmony. 

He has a most lovely voice, Renjun thinks, leaning on the tree. Youngho, he thinks is his name, Joohyun’s son. Oh goodness, the things Joohyun might do knowing Renjun so much as seen him. He is darling though, an omnipresent flush through his cheeks, golden skin, white robes fluttering around him as the Muses dance. He finishes a flower crown and Ten gets down to his knees, Youngho resting it so gently on the top of his head.

He’s threaded narcissus into that one. 

Before he can ruin their fun, he turns to leave. No business getting in their way, so he steps away. The singing and music become more distant as he leaves the forest, stumbling back out next to the stables. He gives pause at the side of the temple. 

It’s been a long time since he’s seen something like that. 

“A few days!” Youngho complains while Joohyun bustles around the home. “Mother, you can’t keep me locked in here. What are you so worried about, he’s just another God.” 

“Renjun isn’t just any God,” Joohyun tells him, turning sharply to look at him. “Not even Gaia knows what goes on in his head much of the time. He’s not like us, he resides below us, below the Earth. He lives amongst the dead, dear. He’s not the same, not by any means,” she tells him. She shakes her head, wandering back over to the kitchen. “I am insisting you stay here for your safety.” 

“He doesn’t seem dangerous,” Youngho says, voice going soft. “Perhaps lonely.” He says it gently, almost wistfully as he remembers the look upon Renjun’s face when he saw him the day before.

“You’re still so young,” Joohyun sighs. “I told you, you’ll understand when you’re a bit older. Until then, I insist you listen to me. I only want to protect you.” She turns to look at him though Youngho is looking out the window, a dreamy expression on his face. “What a silly naive child you are.”

“I’m not that young anymore, mother,” he says, turning his attention back to her. Joohyun merely shakes her head. “I’m beyond the age for marrying yet you treat me like a child,” Youngho points out.

“One day you will marry,” Joohyun attempts to placate him, turning away from the kitchen to face him head on. “But not one day soon,” she insists. “Please. Just stay in the home.” 

“Yes, mother,” Youngho sighs and Joohyun nods, satisfied.

She leaves not long later and Youngho returns to the window. He thinks of sneaking out again, just to get away from the house. He doesn’t understand his mother’s overbearing concern. He’s quite old enough to do as he pleases and all she’s doing is keeping him from growing. He supposes he should be glad for a mother who loves him so but this is too much. Youngho rests his chin on his arms as he stares out the window, wondering when he’ll get a break from this monotonous life. 

He picks up his head as he watches Renjun walk past. He seems not at all interested in the things around him, his nose in a book. It’s a gorgeous day outside, even the breeze is cool against the sun’s harsh rays but his attention remains on the words in front of him. He doesn’t even lift his head as he walks past, the wind blowing his silver hair around, fingers holding tightly to the pages to keep them from flipping. 

What is it about this man that makes people fear him? Because of that which he rules? Because of the way he holds himself, proud but quiet? Youngho aches to know the truth. He knows all there is to know about the others, Donghyuck and Minhyung and Sooyoung and Dejun but not him. Never has Youngho ever had the chance to know him. 

Renjun walks around their home where it sits at the edge of the woods and disappears between the trees, walking the paths Youngho and the Muses have walked many times before. Youngho rushes through the house to the backdoor, looking out the window as Renjun slips from view.

He eases the door open and slides out the back entrance. Oh his mother will be furious if she knows he’s left, especially to chase after the one person she was trying to stop him from seeing but Youngho is curious. It’s his worst flaw, his most mortal flaw, and he shuts the door behind him before following the path Renjun just took. 

It leads well into the forest, through the trees and the vines and the marshes, over a crick and far, far beyond anything else. If you go too far, your chances of falling right off the mountain increase exponentially. None of them have ever done something so foolish due to the clearing before you reach it. It’s exactly where Youngho finds Renjun, leaning against the large rock towards the far side of the clearing, book balanced on his knee. 

Youngho hesitates at the end of the path, hiding partially behind a tree. Renjun certainly sticks out in his ebony robes and silver hair. Not a single other person looks the way Renjun does and Youngho rests his cheek against the tree, taking him in as he reads, silently. 

Renjun’s eyes suddenly lift and Youngho turns with a short gasp, his back against the tree. He doesn’t know for certain if Renjun can see him but he hopes he can’t. 

“I know you’re there,” he calls out and Youngho’s eyes pinch shut. “Do you fear me, as well? Come on, come out. I won’t hurt you.” 

Youngho opens his eyes and turns, stepping out from behind the tree. Renjun has since closed and lowered his book to his lap, looking up at him openly. He has the most piercing dark brown eyes and Youngho approaches him slowly, hands clasped in front of him, embarrassed at being caught. 

“Youngho, aren’t you? Joohyun’s son?” He asks and Youngho nods, hesitant. “Come closer. It’s alright, I won’t hurt you.” He says it so softly, gently, like he’s speaking to a spooked animal and Youngho approaches, slowly. He gets down to his knees in the grass in front of him and Renjun gives him a little crooked, close lipped smile. His book lands on the ground and he leans towards him. “You were following me, weren’t you?” Renjun asks and he watches the rosey flush on Youngho’s cheeks bloom darker. “Don’t be embarrassed, you seem curious is all.” 

“My mother doesn’t want me to speak to you,” Youngho admits and Renjun hums. 

“Yes, that does seem like something she would want,” Renjun admits. “So did you follow me?” 

“I don’t understand,” Youngho says apropos of his mother’s reasoning. He lifts his eyes from where they have been looking so intently at the ground. Renjun notices they are so big, bright, honey amber in color. “Why are people so afraid of you?” 

“I don’t know,” Renjun admits. “People… fear what they don’t understand. People are afraid of me because they do not know what comes after death and I am that.” Youngho’s eyes widen. “You’re not afraid?” Renjun asks and Youngho shakes his head. 

“You don’t seem bad. You seem… lonely.” Renjun breathes in a bit sharper than he was intending. “Are you? Down there, by yourself, accompanied by nothing but souls?” 

“Sometimes.” A lock of wavy, golden brown hair falls into Youngho’s eyes and Renjun reaches out, gently pushing it back into place. His pretty pink lips fall open as Renjun touches him. Youngho is warm to the touch, the physical embodiment of spring underneath Renjun’s fingers. He lets his fingers linger far longer than he should. “Protecting the departed can be a lonely job, though necessary.” 

“I’m sorry,” Youngho whispers but Renjun only shakes his head, hand falling back to his lap. 

“Don’t be.” 

It’s the only time they have together, mostly because Renjun insists he go home before his mother catches him. Youngho wants to protest but he also suspects the older god knows just how his mother might react, coming home to find him gone. Joohyun would do nothing short of tearing the world apart to find him and Youngho leaves Renjun’s side reluctantly, the God of the Underworld settling back against the rock, opening his book while he walks away. He lifts his eyes however, watches the lesser god wander home and thinks back to what Jaemin said. 

“You want me to let you take whom?” Jaemin asks, a crease in his brow, mouth pinched. He looks, possibly, the most upset Renjun has ever seen him and Jaemin has seen many things in his life. They watched their father fall together, the three of them stood above all others and watched as their monstrous father slipped below the earth where he remains, trapped within Tartarus. And yet Renjun speaks to him about the one thing he insisted upon and he looks as though he just tried to take a knife to Yerim’s throat. 

“You asked,” Renjun says and Jaemin sighs, closing his eyes and lifting a hand to his brow. “I ask your permission before I ask him. I have no intentions of taking him without his consent but you are the king here, are you not?” Jaemin lifts his hand a bit to view his brother critically. “You beg me to take a spouse and I come to you with a suggestion and you want to refuse me?” Renjun is being petty but Jaemin will not listen to logic. You must play this game with him, it is the only way to get him to listen. 

“Do you wish to see my head on a pike?” Jaemin replies. It wouldn’t altogether upset Renjun if that were something to see. “Joohyun-” 

“Is overbearing. She’s kept him trapped in the house for days. He wants for something else, something beyond this. Let me speak with him. Let me offer my home to him.” 

“Okay,” Jaemin relents and Renjun grins. “You may speak with him and upon his approval, you have the permission to marry him.” He speaks as though it pains him and it brings just the slightest delight to Renjun. “You must do so without alerting our sister, however. Should she be privy to this knowledge Youngho won’t even make it off the mountain and honestly, neither shall you,” he warns. “You will be fed to that blasted beast of yours before you can blink.” 

“Understood.” 

Speaking with Youngho without the invasive ears of his mother, however, is more difficult than Renjun thought. Joohyun has taken to practically guarding the home herself and Renjun’s time runs out. His few days are up and he retrieves his horses and chariot from the side of the temple. He has quite the ride home and he lingers longer than he ought to, keeping an eye upon Joohyun and Youngho’s home. 

As he passes he sees Youngho in the window. He stays there most of the time he is trapped inside, Renjun realized during his time on the mountain, and he catches his eye as he goes. Youngho lifts his head a bit and Renjun winks, a beautiful dark red blush coming upon Youngho’s cheeks. He is the most precious thing, Renjun thinks. 

It is only when he returns home that Renjun realizes he might have to do something a bit more dramatic to ever have a moment with Youngho. 

Finally free to leave his home Youngho goes as far as he can without upsetting his mother. He leaves the mountain and settles down in the fields below it, just himself, his basket and the wild flowers that grow there.

He hasn’t seen the Muses in days, misses Kun and Yuta and Jaehyun, the way they sing so beautifully and appreciate the little threaded flower crowns he makes for them. Among his bouquet of wildflowers, he also makes a couple of crowns, yarrow and cornflower, clover and primrose. He picks a narcissus from the ground and turns it over between his fingers, sunny yellow in color. That one he tucks behind his ear before continuing his weaving. 

So suddenly does the Earth open up below him, swallowing him and his basket and all his wildflowers whole, that he doesn’t even have time to scream. He tumbles below the Earth’s surface and lands in a chariot, golden and pulled by black horses, lined in black velvet, and when he lands he looks up only to see the surface of the Earth close up above him. His only escape and he turns to look around him, only to find Renjun crouched at his side. 

“Sorry our meeting had to be so abrupt, I worried I wouldn’t get another chance,” Renjun admits and Youngho turns towards him, tilting his head. “Your mother has ears everywhere and she would surely stop me if I tried to speak with you.” Renjun reaches out then, plucks the narcissus from behind Youngho’s ear and turns it over in his hands. “This one is very beautiful,” he says. 

“What do you want to speak with me about?” Youngho asks and Renjun lowers the flower, a delicate little blush crawling over his cheeks. Youngho takes one of Renjun’s hands in his, the other still holding the flower. “Renjun?” 

“Would you marry me?” Renjun asks. A surprised gasp leaves Youngho as his eyes widen and Renjun looks away, shy. “I know it’s sudden and you don’t know very much about me but you deserve something better than what your mother gives you. And you were right, sometimes it is a rather lonely existence down here. You have all the right to decline, I just thought- silly, isn’t it?” 

“What about my mother?” 

“I was given permission by Jaemin.” Youngho’s features transform into an expression of shock and, perhaps, a bit of awe. “I was told that if you agreed I was allowed to have you. But that all depends on if you agree.” 

Youngho’s eyes fall to the velvet lining of the chariot. He’s never even been much further than the fields, though that is entirely thanks to his overbearing mother. He loves her, he does, but he wants for something else. Craves freedom and new experiences. He lifts his eyes to Renjun, who’s own eyes have fallen, twirling the butter yellow flower between his fingers. It’s sudden but Youngho can’t deny his interest in this man, so stoic and mysterious. 

“Okay,” he whispers and Renjun’s eyes snap to view him. Youngho takes the flower from his fingers, tucks it behind Renjun’s ear, so bright and cheery in comparison to the silver of his hair and the black of his robes. “I’ll marry you,” Youngho agrees. 

The smile Renjun gives him is nothing short of radiant. 

The Underworld is both exactly like Youngho expected and nothing at all like it. There’s a flowing river of fire that guards the entrance to Tartarus, the gates of it hulking, cast iron that glows like hot embers. He avoids the gates as best he can, the distant shrieking terrifying to think about. The sky above everything is dark like heavy rain clouds and as he wanders through the marsh where all the rivers meet it’s hard for him to take his eyes off of it. The plant life hangs by a thread though it shines green and alive when he sings to it, just for a moment. The water of the rivers is dark, murky and it unsettles him deeply. 

He meets Styx, a quiet and frail young looking woman but an elder god that makes Youngho nervous when he speaks to her. Thanatos is much younger, closer to his age and much the same league as him. The conversations they have is short and Youngho feels as though he is very much out of his element as he finds himself surrounded by darkness on all sides, nothing at all familiar. 

He finds solace in the gates to Elysium, sparkling silver though locked tightly. There is singing and bright lights beyond the gates and Youngho wonders if he’ll ever see the other side. He’s still nervous to ask Renjun to show him more than he can see before him. 

Renjun didn’t waste time at the entrance, waving off the other lesser gods that live there. It is beyond it that the marsh lies, the gates of all the Underworld guarded by Cerberus, the giant tower beast that Renjun insists isn’t that bad once he gets used to him. Youngho is still uncertain, with its three heads and serpentine tail swishing and writhing about behind it. 

Between the gates of Tartarus and Elysium, further past the marsh is the entrance to the fields and the meadow. The Asphodel Meadows and the Mourning Fields stretch out for leagues upon leagues. Youngho wonders if there is even another side beyond it, though he doubts as such.

“Come with me,” Renjun says as soon as they make it into the marsh, however, and Youngho steps off the chariot, surprised to find solid stone beneath his feet. The chariot stops just to the right of the marsh and Renjun takes his hand, leading him down a set of stairs, further beneath the surface of the earth into where Youngho can only imagine is where Renjun resides. 

The ground is ashy and cold, it chills Youngho as he walks but Renjun seems unbothered. They reach a landing and Renjun steps aside to let him see it. 

It is not ornate like the temple where Jaemin lives. It reminds Youngho of his own home, cozy, well lived in and he walks into the living area with his head slightly tilted. A part of him expected fire and brimstone and a giant, hulking throne but none of that exists here. It is small and quaint and he turns to see Renjun walking into the kitchen, lighting a fire under the stove to heat water. It warms the entire room, melts away the chill and illuminates the room, glowing orange-yellow. Renjun offers him a shy smile next to the stove and nods to the stove.

“Tea?” Renjun asks and Youngho nods, shy. 

Two steaming cups of tea later, Renjun looks to the side, where Youngho can only assume his room is, down a long, dark hallway. 

“I have only one room for right now,” he sighs. He turns back to Youngho, offers him another small, shy smile. “But in a few days I can have another. I am capable of making those things happen.” 

“Shouldn’t we sleep in the same bed?” Youngho asks and Renjun’s eyes widen. “It is only proper, isn’t it?” He asks, voice going soft and hesitant. Renjun lowers his head but a smile graces his lips as he does so. When he lifts it the smile is directed right at Youngho and he thinks he might just see stars sparkling in the elder god’s eyes. 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

Renjun shows him to the bedroom, spacious and warmly lit with candles. The bed is large, comfortable and Youngho sits on the edge of it, turning his head to look at Renjun. Renjun approaches slowly, tentatively, and stands at Youngho’s side. Youngho reaches for his hand, threading their fingers together. 

“You may still say no,” Renjun tells him and Youngho tilts his head, a crease in his brow. “Your mother will be expecting you and if you would like to avoid her wrath you can leave whenever you like. I don’t wish to force myself upon you, you don’t deserve that. I offer only an option that you have all the rights to decline.” 

“I don’t know how I feel about this place yet,” Youngho admits. “But it’s not home and you’re here. I- I think I trust you,” he says and Renjun huffs a laugh. 

“Maybe your mother was right,” Renjun says and a frown makes its way onto Youngho’s face. Renjun reaches out, cups his cheek and thumbs at the corner of his lips until it loosens the frown right out of them. “You are still a tad foolish. But that’s alright. How else will you learn?” 

Renjun lies in bed that night with Youngho’s arms around his middle, his head on his shoulder. Renjun kisses his forehead gently before falling asleep himself. 

Three days Renjun and Youngho float through life, speaking but never truly talking. They spend their time weaving around each other, Youngho getting acclimated to the way of the Underworld while Renjun goes about his normal business, keeping a close eye on him. Never once do they speak about the wedding and, Renjun notices, never once does Youngho eat while down here. 

There are rules to the Underworld. Particulars that have to be adhered to and Renjun knows this. He watches as Youngho drinks tea, wanders through the marsh, edges hesitantly around Cerberus and takes long walks through the Asphodel Meadows. Souls come near but never close enough to touch, hesitant to understand this new god amongst them. But never once Youngho eat, not a single morsel crosses his lips as long as he’s down here with him. 

Renjun can hear the wrath of Joohyun even down here. She’s angry, looks for her son with a vengeance and Renjun knows that should she find him she won’t hesitate to take him away. Youngho is now Renjun’s betrothed but that means nothing to her, she will do anything to find him and take him back. Renjun wonders if Youngho is truly willing to stay or if he’d rather he not. 

“Your mother is looking for you,” Renjun says, finding Youngho in the Mourning Fields. The fields are scattered with trees, some of them bearing fruits but most of them not. The grass grows long here, grey and washed out in color, affected by the grey skies above them, not nearly as dark as the blackness above the marsh but not clear. Even so Youngho glows rose gold as he turns to look at him, still dresses in white robes. Renjun thinks briefly of what he would look like draped in black. 

“I know,” Youngho says, hand dragging down the gnarled length of a tree trunk. It’s a pomegranate tree, the trunk of which is twisted upon itself, the branches low and reaching out. As he tends to it it glimmers green and red, the fruit growing right in front of Renjun’s eyes. He reaches out, plucks a rich crimson fruit from a branch and Youngho drops his hand with a small smile. Renjun looks to him, his smile mirroring Youngho’s. 

“You are very powerful,” Renjun says. Youngho only shrugs in a manner that tells Renjun he doesn’t truly believe it. Renjun gets down onto the ground and Youngho joins him, the two of them curled up underneath the shade of the tree. More fruit grows above them but Renjun turns his attention to the one in his lap, gently scoring the outside of it with the sharp of his sceptre. He breaks it apart in his lap, seeds spilling across the black fabric of his robes. He picks up one, rich with juice and magenta in color. He offers it to Youngho but he only shakes his head. 

“You haven’t eaten as long as you’ve been here,” Renjun points out. Youngho nods. “You know,” Renjun says, dropping the seed back into his lap. With careful fingers he breaks the seeds away from the pith, spilling across his lap and setting aside the rind as soon as it’s empty. “Your mother, once she finds you, she will take you from here. And I have no choice but to let her, I do not own you.” 

“What if I don’t want to,” he argues. 

“Then you will have to fight your mother on your own,” Renjun says. Youngho’s eyes fall to the side. “I’m sorry that this is how it has to be. These are just the facts.”

“You’re meant to marry me, aren’t you?” Youngho asks and Renjun nods. “Jaemin gave you permission. She can’t defy him.” 

“Surely you must know by now that your mother will defy anyone to protect you,” Renjun comments. He sets the final piece of the rind down, nothing but seeds in his lap. “But you know the rules down here, don’t you?” He picks up a seed, putting it in his mouth. 

“What if I want to go back?” Youngho asks. 

“You may. Just a few isn’t enough to keep you here forever but perhaps… just a short time. You will always have to return to me, though. Return here,” Renjun says. He offers one to Youngho. “But there is no going back,” Renjun warns him.

Youngho leans in closer, almost hovering over Renjun and opens his mouth. Renjun places the seed in his mouth. 

He has one, two, three, four, five more before being satisfied. Neither of them need food. They don’t desire it, it is not necessary to sustain them but he eats all six seeds before stopping. Six seeds of a pomegranate, staining his tongue magenta and Renjun smiles to himself as he himself eats another. 

“Forever,” Youngho says, voice soft with wonder. “I’ll always have to return now. Forever.” 

“Yes,” Renjun agrees. Youngho leans in then, lips stained magenta and presses a kiss to his lips. It’s sweet and tart and Renjun lifts a hand to hold onto his jaw. Kisses him back, soft and gentle and chaste until Youngho’s had his fill. When he moves back, Renjun brushes his thumb over his lower lip. His hand moves to touch his fingertips to Youngho’s mouth, fingers tracing the prominence of his pout, his perfectly formed cupid’s bow. Eros must tremble in jealousy at how beautiful Youngho is. 

Six pomegranate seeds are all Youngho eats as long as he’s there but it’s enough. Renjun finishes the rest of the fruit on his own and when they go to bed that night Renjun holds Youngho close, Youngho’s head resting on his chest. Renjun holds their entwined hand against his own stomach and he feels it when Youngho turns his head, pressing a kiss to his chest, right where his heart lies. It beats forevermore but it trips over itself with Youngho in his arms, their legs tangled in bed and holding each other’s hands. 

Joohyun is not to be deterred, no matter how far the distance, so Renjun is unsurprised to see her tear her way into the Underworld, Jaemin behind her. Even Cerberus runs from her entrance but Renjun merely meets his middle sister in the marsh, Jaemin looking sheepish behind her. It is rare to see his brother looking so nervous so Renjun can only imagine the kind of wrath Joohyun has shown. 

“Bring me my son,” she tells him. Renjun lifts his chin, views her with a bland expression. “I will not ask again,” she warns him. “I have given the Earth nothing in the past week, all crops have died and famine is imminent. Unless you wish to see your Underworld fit to bursting you will bring him to me!” 

Renjun turns to the stairs that lead to his residence and finds Youngho already there. He comes over to meet his mother and Joohyun’s ire calms, but only slightly. Youngho, however, does not go to his mother’s side, instead wraps his arms around Renjun and holds him close, tucking his chin over Renjun’s shoulder. Joohyun’s eyes are fiery as she looks at them while Jaemin merely turns his head, a poor attempt to conceal his smile. 

“You may have him, but not forever. Six pomegranate seeds he ate and six months I will have him a year,” Renjun tells her. Joohyun’s eyes widen in anger. “You know the rules, sister. He will return to me, every year, whether you like it or not.” 

“You are a beast,” she curses at him. “Taking my son from me. You are nothing more than a horrid creature, stealing things that which does not belong to you. Six months you will have him and for six months the Earth will mourn with me. Mark my words.” 

“Understood.” 

Youngho leaves Renjun’s side but not without a kiss, something to sustain them until they can see each other again. Joohyun herds him away from Renjun while Jaemin lingers. He looks at his brother with something akin to amusement and disbelief. Renjun continues to view him with a bland expression as he comes in closer, narrowing his eyes a bit. 

“Of all the people in all the world, you fell for one that you should not have,” Jaemin says. Renjun offers him a sly smile. “She means it, you know. The world will mourn, no crops, cold weather, everything.” 

“Then so be it,” Renjun says. “While the world rejoices, I will wait, patient, for his return. And every time the weather turns, I will know he is coming back to me.” 

The world moves forward around them. People change, grow, the world modernizes. Eventually robes are obsolete, electricity begins to reign and suddenly everything is digital. The old gods stumble over themselves to grow used to the way the world works in this new age. Few things change for Renjun other than the modernization of his living spaces, his clothing but every moment of every day a new boat bumps its way down the Styx and they stumble onward, ever onward, to the great unknown. Cerberus continues to bark and growl at the souls that come too close and Renjun spends the precious free moments he has lounging in the marsh, quiet and happy. 

A busy year this year as the world bumbles it’s way through a worldwide pandemic. The days grow shorter though, and Renjun watches as time tick tick ticks away. He counts the seconds until his loneliness is no more. 

Renjun knows when Joohyun has let him go, a sharp cold snap breezing its way through the world. Everyone feels the sharp chill as it trails down their spine and Renjun runs up the stairs. He takes them two at a time, cloak fluttering behind him as his boots clomp their way up. 

The great gates are open, Cerberus lies sleeping and down the river comes a boat, this one so much grander, shining silver as it circles the underworld. Renjun waits for him, anxious to see his love. 

He no more than steps onto the stone than Renjun is in his arms. Youngho laughs into his hair as he hugs him tightly. Still is he dressed in his jeans and a loose long-sleeve, sneakers on his feet. In mere hours he’ll don the clothes Renjun keeps for him, painted black from head to toe, thick soled boots and Renjun craves him. For so many long months he’s waited and now he is back, his love returned to him. 

Renjun pulls back to look at him, still just as rosey flushed and golden as the day they met. Youngho runs a hand through his silver hair before cupping the back of his head, pulling him in to kiss him. His quiet, shy little lesser god is gone and his fellow king of the Underworld sits upon his throne with him, kissing him deep and sweet and warm. 

“I’ve missed you,” Renjun breathes into his mouth when Youngho finally pulls away. 

“And I you,” Youngho replies. “I don’t want to waste a moment. I love you so much.” 

“I love you too.” Renjun throws his arms around Youngho’s neck, holding him close while Youngho wraps his around Renjun’s waist, kissing him again. Long and deep and languid, a kiss that means forever. Forever and ever more.

**Author's Note:**

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